Coon Hill
Part Twelve
"This Dirty Business"
Now
that I have supplied background.
Now that I have supplied insight.
Now that I have reported nuance.
Reported character.
Reported ‘the stuff’. All
that AFTER the first two parts (one and two) where my companion for and of this
estate clean-out is ‘first appearance’ and his contribution is... titled
‘stealing’. I am not really all
that pleased to be writing THIS (‘this dirty business’) down to be read...
perused... stipulated... queried... pondered... stepped in and ...treaded
around... (“up the [front] stairs”?) by voyeurs who may feel pat that they have
found TOO a secret antiquarian trade (‘stolen stuff’) TOO that they will tell
me they
“KNEW...
OF... BEFORE”.
“Oh
go to Hell.” And after a half century of STOLEN-FROM-ME... I can say that
without ever having to THINK ABOUT the ones I sent there... coming BACK from
HELL I...: “Stolen
stuff”? Nah... you ain’t
there. Ever.
“Stolen
stuff”? I’ve put two people in
jail for stealing from me.
And
funny thing about that... it was in 1969 and ...funny thing about that... the:
GUY who did that; that stealing from me... was... ah
SET
UP across from me at the flea market for a WHOLE YEAR... a year ago... until he
was ‘asked to leave’ for ‘not paying (his stall) rent. So like... he was... ah...
THERE
for the WHOLE YEAR and I...
Well...
Had
intercourse with him... for the WHOLE YEAR.
Funny
thing about that.. I mean... first
off that’s just another tattoo proving my looking down that ladder at Asa (Part
One) “AIN’T the FIRST TIME”... but:
Funny
thing about that is that... yeah, yeah, yeah don’t worry BOTH OF US BOTH very
clearly and concisely ‘remember’ “THAT” (the 1969 stealing ‘incident) but ah
FUNNY
THING ABOUT... THIS... (him a forty years ago thief) is that... IN THE
WHOLE
Trading
floor of the WHOLE flea market... he’s ah (this thief) is the
MOST
KNOWLEDGEABLE of ALL of the ‘yeah that’s what they call themselves’ DEALERS ‘in
the place
AND
HE
KNOWS THAT I AM ‘knowledgeable’ TOO.
He even knows that I am MORE knowledgeable ‘about antiques’ (and rare
books) than HE IS ...ever... going to be BUT he... to be a career antiques
thief AND do that for forty years...
yeah: He DOES have to ‘know
what he’s doing”
STRANGE
BEDFELLOWS?
“Funny
thing about that.”
But
he got ‘asked to leave’.
That’s not the only ‘piece of shit’
(unpleasant situation) I ‘go through’ (step in). No... it is WEEEKLY, daily, hourly KEEP vigilant. Keep vigilance. Yes.
“For
what?”
“Stealing? Stolen stuff?”
“Yeah...
just say ‘where’d that guy get that stuff’ a few times and... one STARTS to get
the FEEL of ‘something big out there’ in the antiquarian... beyond. And that brings me back to Asa.
Some
‘beyond’ he is. I have (standing
at the bottom of the ladder and then with me INSIDE ‘Her’ home)... a... trust
fund financed moved to Maine fifty years ago blue bloody somehow remittance
case living in a “MAINE FARM” where he guardingly keeps a locked barn that he
has filled with CRAP that he ‘thinks is good’ that he has pilfered (in the name
of ‘stealing’)... and I know all about this ...ah... chap and his... ah...
career from... ‘seeing him’ (and specimens of his ‘stuff’) ‘at the flea market
(et al) venues and ah...:
“What
am I gonna do about this piece of crap and his barn full of pieces of crap?”
“I
know! Let’s burn him at the
stake... in the middle of
His
BARN
FULL OF CRAP!”
That
isn’t the way it works.
Slithering
in and out from under cool wet rocks these ‘this sort’ are more than capable of
continuing. They seem to move well
and always a little ways ahead of the pack and... always know where the
(escape) door is and the right... light... touch at the right... light angle in
the right... light... light to be
Prolifically
Successful
AT
their ‘slight of hand’.
NOW
that dropping the Coon Hill sign down the ladder on Asa is... a viable
action... I leave that missed opportunity (Part One) and reappear INSIDE the
home (Part Two) where this ...ponderance of character... wants to ‘know where’
the (death) chair is; that I have it and he wants it and I
Confronted
him with his own emotional involvement with the ‘Her’ and the estate and the
... door to the THAT ROOM is closed and HE.
YES
HE HAD ONCE... ONCE... once... been in and out of that DOORWAY and THAT
ROOM.... a ‘bedroom’. But that was
so long ago before the stealing and the HE was so much, much, much younger
then; a ‘college boy’ and SHE was only but a younger and less deliberately
formed ‘Her’ who, too... had eyes to notice a YOUNG MAN splitting wood. Tending bees. Parking trucks.
Wearing NO SHIRT AT ALL in the door yard before the BARN whose door was
open to show ONLY BALES and BALES of new HAY ‘cut’.
But
that was a very long time ago before the door to that room; the bedroom...
closed HIM OUT. Why?
I
don’t know
Exactly
Nor
do I care
To
know
Exactly.
Then
the stealing began. At the end of
every little visit... that weaken;
each visit weakened, until the ‘He’ was but a puppy dog of ‘Her’: The, as he said:
“I’M
the one that’s been the doggie here.
Not you.” (Part One).
That’s what happened to him.
“In here”. Inside the
estate. The bedroom door was
closed forever... until I ...stripped the bed. Until I cleaned out the sock drawer in the ‘dresser’ and
Put
the ‘Death Chair’ in there... too.
Or is it ‘back in there too’.
WHERE DID SHE KEEP the ‘Death Chair’?
Anyway. She had a puppy dog... that stole from
her. And drank. Yeah; don’t forget that. And... did he really steal from
her? NO. He stole ‘stuff’ from her outbuildings and the barn. She did, being ‘well settled of things’
(Part Four), not care... to care... to notice any of that. It was just ‘old stuff’ ‘in the barn’
Anyway.
Then
he’d take it home and hide in the ever growing mound of his ‘full’ barn. His hoard of his being a hoarder. A hoard of he steals from ‘Her’ to hide
‘it’ from ‘Her’ in his locked barn to... ever very carefully upon a thoughtful
occasion of some sort idiotic disconnected thought related... in most cases...
to having ‘seen’ a ‘one like it’ at an ‘out there somewhere’ antiquarian venue
he would puppy dog piddle around at some EQUAL venue harboring and holding;
hoarding in his arms, his little “FIND OUT ABOUT” of the hoarder’s hoarding
momentary mental and physical fantasy fetish. Yes; fetish.
Then
he’d go home from that effort of hoarder’s conquest... and drink
The
whole bottle
And
pitch that bottle off the back porch into the Maine woods with the locked barn
of his stolen hoard in sight to his ...immediate right. Drunk as a skunk he would then ‘pitch
back’ on either the (seasonal) old sofa on that porch or ...the old sofa
‘inside’.
For
a few days.
Of
no creature is stirring.
She
didn’t care about the stealing and she probably did actually enjoy his ...well
managed by her... regular visits of ‘very often’ for decades and decades and
that he was to her like a puppy dog that peed on her rug and ‘she never notices
you know’. She noticed. She noticed and noted all of it and,
correctly, concluded that... well...
She
was no great shakes herself.
Then
I come in and ‘have to’ ‘clean it out’.
It
is a dirty business.
It
is so dirty that it becomes, in its filth... an astonishingly beautiful,
Rich,
Epic
For
me
when
I come in and... ‘clean it out’.
[1] : It was (r.i.p.) in short; a ‘blown
three mold inkwell’ GIII-29.
Common type. Keene, NH,
1825. Perfect. They are (and look
like) a hockey puck of Early New England glass. At that day and on to now... it
is a $125.00 value. Yes for all
forty-five years (2014) that price.
$85.00 wholesale that day and... today. WITH an occasional $225.00 aberration ‘over the years’. THAT day of mine stolen; a ‘fain
eighty-five’ to collect a quick ‘beaten down’ $65.00. Easy money ‘at that’.
That day. And today too.
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